Vein of Stars
by Miss Dvoratrelundar
Summary: And he thought of Rose. He could hear the room around him starting to burn, but he didn't care. The stars...how did he stand a chance against the stars?
1. His Song is Ending

_Although this is my first Doctor Who fiction, it isn't my first fiction ever. I created a new account specifically because I was inspired to write for some reason or another, and this is the result. I know this is a very short first chapter, and it's basically a recount of an episode, but I felt it was pertinent to include with the rest of the plot. Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy!_

_I don't own Doctor Who._

* * *

As logic stands, you couldn't meet a man who's from the future.

Well, he wasn't sure who had decided that, but they must not have had a very broad understanding of life, the universe, and everything. He tried to focus as a blurry golden light crept into the corners of his sight, threatening to swallow his vision. The housing complex he surveyed was a bit dull and run-down, but seeing the peaceful, snowy alley struck a chord of familiarity - it felt like home. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, the sharp realization that his time was very limited hit him for the first time since he had sealed his fate.

Oh, the unbearable burning in his stomach wouldn't stop.

He was vaguely aware of a female voice creeping into his mind, mildly overshadowing his despair with curiosity and that familiar sting of adventure, though he hadn't the faintest idea what the voice was saying. Had he landed in the right time? The thought filled him with excitement and sorrow, and he breathed deeply, letting the cool air seep over his tongue in an attempt to gauge his current whereabouts. London, England. It was the year 2005, on the first day of the first month. He opened his eyes slowly to avoid further upsetting his dizzy condition.

"Don't stay out all night."

"Try' n stop me." A second voice. There was a second voice.

Before he could make the connection between the owners of these voices, a rush of yellow and pink came around the corner, and the burning in his stomach instantly tightened into a weight. His Rose. What an odd mixture of feelings this girl stirred within him; admiration, fear...guilt. As badly as he wanted to call out to her, as much as it hurt him to watch her walk away, as much as he wanted to give her the proper goodbye she deserved - he knew he had to leave well enough alone. Never mind that reaching out to her now would be enough to collapse this universe and, presumably, the next one over. No, he had already caused enough pain for this human girl, he was determined to stay in the shadows. His body, however, had other plans. The burning weight in his stomach decided to flare out to his chest and he lurched forward, clutching at the wall with an audible gasp.

"Y'alright, mate?"

His head shot up instantly as he leaned against the wall behind him for support. "Yeah."

"Too much ta drink?" A small, playful smile replaced her expression of solemn concern.

He wanted to blink, but he refused to take his eyes off of her. "Somethin' like that."

"Maybe it's time you went home."

"...yeah."

"Anyway. Happy new year!"

"And you."The Doctor stared at her retreating form, searching for something, anything, to keep her attention just a bit longer. "What year is this?"

She spun on her heels, an incredulous look on her face as she laughed in disbelief. "Blimey, how much have you had?"

He shrugged, suddenly at a loss for words.

"2005, January the first."

"2005." He confirmed. She nodded. "Tell you what. I bet you're gonna have a really great year."

A slow smile crept onto her face. "Yeah?"

As he smiled, he tried to convey the sincerity in his statement, though he knew she couldn't see him. She started to turn away, smiling inwardly at herself, before turning to face him full on. Grinning that brilliant grin that seemed to dare anyone to defy her happiness.

"See ya!"

And with that she was running back to her building, pausing only to open the door and shoot one last glance back at him through the closing door, before she was gone forever.

The alley suddenly seemed dangerously quiet and lonely, and another plume of heat shot itself up into the Doctor's ribs. He stumbled to the corner and pushed off of the brick wall to gain some momentum, fighting the blurred vision. That oldest of blues...he had to focus on it. But his legs were so heavy, and his entire body burned with so much radiation that he cried out in pain and fell to his knees. Paralyzed, he was suddenly telepathically aware of another presence standing in the street directly ahead of him.

It was Ood Sigma. The Ood held its translator globe ahead of itself with purpose.

"We will sing to you, Doctor." The globe shone gently with each syllable. "The Universe will sing you to your sleep." Ood Sigma clipped his globe on his coat pocket and stared at him.

A telepathic link was established, and the Doctor's mind suddenly burst open with the saddest song he had ever heard, lulling him into a strange comfort. He willed himself upright carefully, unsure, and forced his wobbly steps in the direction of his machine.

"This song is ending, but the story never ends."

He didn't have the energy to glance at Ood Sigma and ground his teeth together as he neared the TARDIS. Two more steps and he had popped open the door to slid safely inside. He leaned calmly against the door, trying to keep up his composure. Throwing his coat onto one of the support beams haphazardly, he made his way up to the console in the center of the room, and the Ood song in his head spiked with emotion.

Here it was.

His left hand began to glow with an effervescent, golden energy, and he thought of all the people he had saved. Everyone that was strong enough to go on, even when things looked dim. The sick he'd cure, the bad he'd just. But it wasn't him. He thought of all the people who had saved him. The universe was filled with souls so much more extraordinary and so much more important than himself, it was a wonder to him why they all revered him with such a silent magnificence. And the stars...how did he stand a chance against the stars? Pressing his glowing hand into his hip, he strode around the console, capturing one last look at the immense power of his home before pulling a lever. Take him anywhere. Anywhere would be better than here. He needed comfort, and he didn't trust that he wouldn't go running back into the street after her, despite his weakening state. Just the thought of her had to be enough for him right now, it had to. He continued to circle the console in a prematurely nostalgic state, and his eyes gleamed with the promise of tears.

And he thought of Rose. She was his anchor to this world and this regeneration.

"I don't wanna go!" He stated in dismay at the inevitable, and gulped in air with shaky breaths.

The effervescence shrouded his mind now, and he could feel himself losing his grip on reality. Clinging to this body with all his might, he lifted his left hand up to witness a slight waning of light. Was he beating his regeneration? Perhaps it was this bit of confidence that caused him to drop his guard, if only momentarily, and the light suddenly exploded from all sides. He could hear the room around him starting to burn, but he didn't care.

And as suddenly as all this light was called into existence, it was gone, and he was left in a state of absolute blackness.


	2. 1255 Degrees Kelvin

_"She's got a sword in case, though this is not her lord._  
_In case the one who can't afford to face her image is restored to grace."_  
_-"Death of a Martian," Red Hot Chili Peppers_

Certainly it was by some twisted design that the very next thing he was conscious of was his face meeting the cool, metal grating of the TARDIS floor. He didn't bother to open his eyes to confirm this - he was in the TARDIS, alright. The new-old, timey-wimey air he breathed was proof enough of that. The bizarre thing was this. If he was still in the same when and where as he was only moments ago, then why did he have the rather uncomfortable sensation of begin plucked from one point in time and space and dropped - rather roughly, he might add - in an entirely different point altogether? As he had made what he thought was a somewhat respectable life out of travelling, he thought he knew a thing or two about being far away from where one started. And he was so very far away. All strangeness aside (and this was already becoming one of the weirdest regenerations he'd ever experienced), he noticed that he could still wiggle his toes comfortably in his trainers. He tensed all his muscles in turn to test out his new body.

Something didn't feel right.

The Doctor dug his fingers into the gaps in the grating. Actually, the odd thing wasn't the fact that something didn't feel right. Everything felt exactly right, and that's what made it odd. He blinked in the dim lighting of the TARDIS and tried to assess his situation.

"So are we goin' to this planet, or-" Footsteps froze quickly as they entered the console room, and then scattered towards him with urgency. "Doctor!"

Strong, slender arms were hooking themselves into his and pulling him upwards onto the nearby cushion. The movement made him nauseous, and although he would have really liked to see who was picking him up, the sudden shift in his center of gravity sent his stomach into an angry knot, doubling him over in nausea. His eyes slowly began to focus on the silhouette of a human girl hovering about him.

"Doctor! You okay?" Her dark eyes scanned him with uncertainty from beneath soft tresses of the warmest hair he'd ever seen; it had a certain fiery incandescence in its tone.

"Are you ginger?" The palms of his hands met his eye sockets in an attempt to rub away any drowsy illusions. He suddenly drew them away as if they had an electrical current, and stared at them strangely.

"You've gone mad," She shrugged her shoulders in a manner that suggested that she was quite thoroughly irked and let her hands fall at her sides with a slap. Then, for good measure, added, "-_der._"

"Yes, because your hair is on fire and I can't figure out exactly at which temperature it's burning." Pausing to rethink his statement, he decided that it would be best if he thought before he spoke from this point forward. Something about these eyes...he couldn't focus his vision properly. "So...sorry. Uh...I seem to be a bit out of sorts at the moment."

The girl barked out a laugh. "So what else is new."

"Where...or...when are we going?" He inquired . Anything to distract her and buy him some time to concentrate on the situation at hand. He also thought that it would be within his best interests to know just exactly where, or when, they were going to land. Something, somewhere in the Universe, was toying with him, so the last thing he wanted was to be clueless to his surroundings. He felt the TARDIS pull at his mind weakly.

Taking small strides around the control panel as he listened to her speak, making note of the annoyed undertone in her voice. "We've already landed. You were just talking about taking us to some kind of hyper-spatial engineering planet...I had just went to grab a coat because you said it was going to be cold and when I came back," She breathed carefully to quell the apprehension she was feeling. "You were laying on the floor there, unconscious. Listen, are you sure you're alright?"

"Ah, Magrathea, eh? Heart of the Horsehead Nebula, gem of the twin suns Rahm and Soulianis!" He stuffed his hands in the oddly tweed pockets of his coat. "They build planets there, you know."

She visibly bristled as he tip-toed around her question.

"Doctor."

"Hm?" His looked at some buttons on the console and unsuccessfully searched his pockets for his spectacles.

"You sure you're up for this?"

Giving up his search, he shrugged indifferently and headed towards the door. "Course I am!" But he wasn't sure. In fact, if he had to pick something that best described him in his current state, sure was definitely the farthest thing from it.

"Right. No time like the present, yeah?" She zipped up her coat nervously, glancing worriedly at the Doctor.

"I beg to differ." A choking sensation struck him as he tried to say, "Allons-y," but no words came out.

"That's weird." He muttered.

The woman suddenly shuddered violently and nearly collapsed into the console in a burst of yellow energy. He rushed to her and froze in his tracks, his gaze trained on her. Abruptly, she stood. His vision was perfectly clear now. As he cautiously approached her, she simultaneously swayed with the maelstrom of crippling power and yet remained inhumanly still. Her hair - he now realized flared with the white-hot warmth he'd hoped to never see on her again. It breathed with an impossible breeze to frame her eyes, which bled golden. She was old and new, timeless and aging, animalistic and modern.

Malice hid under the unaccented voice of time itself as words spilled from the girl's mouth. Whether they were her own words, the Wolf's, or both, he had no way of knowing.

"You're still singing."

_Author's Note: So sorry for the length! Once summer break comes around, I should definitely be able to write more at once. I was going to save this chapter until I could combine it with the next one, but I didn't want to lose the idea. Anyway, please let me know what you think so far!_


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